For Wizarding Robes
by Nil-Boggles-My-Mind
Summary: Stories of Ron through Hogwarts, friendship, fashion, and Voldemort. From Pre-Hogwarts to Post-Hogwarts, Ron/Cedric Friendship.
1. LunaDoll

Ronald Bilius Weasley was a curious child. At age six, he was content to watch his brothers fly for hours, content to look for gnomes hiding behind bushes. He enjoyed nothing more than being left to his own devices, and make broomsticks out of branches. They even flew!

His family, however, did not understand that. They always tried to get him to do things with them. Charlie insisted on teaching him how to fly, Percy was always after him with a pair of scissors trying to cut his hair. Fred and George were trying to prank him, one way or another, and he really did not appreciate his teddy turning into a spider over night. Bill kept trying to teach him Runes, and Ginny wanted to play dolls.

She had a huge collection of dolls that Ron helped her carve out of branches and stones, as well as those she received from relatives for her birthday. She and Ron would spend hours playing with the makeshift dolls, making clothing out of leaves and flower petals from their mother's garden.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was an incredibly possessive child. She was also prone to jumping to conclusions. And she enjoyed nothing more than playing with her dolls, making sure each one of them had their own special place and outfit. She was extremely proud of all of them, and hated seeing them misplaced. And that was how Ron found himself cornered in the kitchen, with two equally frightening redheads glaring daggers at him, holding a small doll in his hands.

"I am ABSOLUTELY ashamed, Ronald, that you would even THINK of stealing from your younger sister. Why EVER would you do such a thing?" Mrs. Weasley yelled, wand waving in every direction, a tureen of stew floating menacingly behind her.

"But it's no-"Ron began, before he was interrupted by his mother's yelling.

"NO BUTS, Ronald. What will your father think, stealing at your age? Oh, at LEAST it was discovered now, and not later. My, what will Auntie Muriel think, a THIEF in the family…" Ron tuned his mother out, concentrating instead on the doll in his hands. He based it on one of Ginny's friends, and he liked how the long blond hair of the doll meshed with the wavy dress he had her wear. It was a shade of blue he'd once seen in a storybook, and he thought she'd look pretty wearing it. "…And WHAT do you have to say for yourself, young man?" His mother finished speaking, and looked at him expectantly with her hands on her hips. Ginny quickly copied her mother, though he could tell that she hadn't been paying attention either.

Ron looked up at his mother, wide eyed. "Mum, it's not Ginny's doll. It's mine." He held it up for her to take. She snatched it out of his hand, and looked it over, pulling up the dress to look at the back of the doll, where Ginny's name should've been written.

"Oh my…" Mrs. Weasley muttered. Ginny simply looked angry.

"But Ron's a BOY, mum. Why would he have a doll? He's lying." She stated sharply, with a glare leveled at her brother.

"Ron…" His mother questioned softly. "Where did you get this?"

Ron stared at his feet. "I made it…" He whispered, not daring to look at his mother. If there was one thing scarier than his mother yelling, it was his mother being quiet. "Out of, out of a tree branch. An' I made it look like Luna."

"Ron," she asked, kneeling to look him in the eye. "How did you do that?"

Ron looked at her. She wasn't that scary anymore. "I got a branch and I held it in my hand, and then I wanted it to look like her, and it changed. And I made her dress that way too."

"And when did you make it?"

"Umm… I made it after Luna stayed over."

Molly stood up. She thought for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Three months? You made it three months ago? And it's never faded?"

Ron looked back at his feet. "No. Never. Why, mum, what did I do?"

She stared at Ron. "Perhaps nothing Ron. Or perhaps, perhaps something extraordinary," she whispered the last part. She stiffened. "We'll discuss this over dinner. Call your brothers to the table, it's almost ready, we'll eat when dad get's home."

Ron looked up at her, and ran out of the room. Ginny glared after him, and sat at her spot on the table.

Molly simply stared at the doll in her hand. The likeness to Luna was uncanny, and nearly perfect. And it lasted this well for three months, while she'd only managed a month at most, on something even smaller.

* * *

The Weasley family ate dinner together every night, as Arthur was always able to leave work on time. They normally enjoyed the time they spent together, even Ron. However, tonight was not normal, and Ron had been nervous through the meal, barely picking at the food on his plate. His mum had been acting weird earlier, and she hadn't brought up the doll yet. When was she going to? He couldn't stand the wait. What should he do?

As Molly cleared the plates, in order to put pudding on the table, Ron made his decision. He cleared his throat, and looked at his father.

"Dad," he began. "Err… mumhassomethingtoshowyou." Well. He certainly got that out. He smiled brightly and went back to looking at his glass of pumpkin juice.

"Ron, could you say that again? I couldn't understand you," Arthur asked, with a bemused expression on his face. Not the kind he got looking at Muggle things, but close. Ron paled, but Molly came to his rescue.

"Ronald has a doll." She stated, simply.

Ron paled again, his freckles more visible than ever before. Fred and George looked at each other, and grinned widely. Fred opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off with a sharp glare from Bill.

"A doll, Molly?" Arthur questioned.

"Yes, a doll. He made it himself." Molly placed the Luna-doll in the middle of the table, while simultaneously serving portions of a lemony cake. "Transfigured. It's lasted for three months," she stated, pride in her voice.

Arthur's eyes grew wide. 'Three months,' he mouthed. "That's an awfully long time. Are you quite sure Molly?" He grabbed the doll, examining it. _Exquisite._

"I'm sure, Arthur, positive. I believe Ron." Molly said this with a smile directed at Ron, who was still staring at his pumpkin juice.

"Well, then, son, keep up the good work!" He smiled at Ron as well, discreetly sending Molly a signal that they'd talk later.

The family finished their dessert in comfortable camaraderie, except for Ginny, who was glaring at Ron, and Percy, who was looking at the doll with a gleam in his eye.

* * *

After all the children were in bed, Molly and Arthur were sitting at the table, mugs of tea in hand. They were discussing their youngest son, and his transfiguration.

"Molly, this could mean nothing, but, again, it could mean everything."

"I understand that Arthur. You know, Gideon once made a rather long lasting toy mouse, before he went to Hogwarts. And he did excel at Transfiguration. Although, I don't believe it lasted that long, and he made it when he was eleven."

"Do you think we should talk to Minerva about this? She should understand it more than we do."

"Perhaps we should, Arthur. We'll send her a letter tomorrow?"

"Excellent. Now, I believe we should get some sleep, Mollywobbles."

"Oh, Arthur," she giggled.

Meanwhile, Ron was studying his doll, wondering if she'd look better in another color, or perhaps a different dress. He glanced at the pile of pebbles he collected, and smirked.

This would be fun.

* * *

A/N Hello there! This is, well, written for a friend of mine for her birthday (Which is in about a month.) It was originally going to be a oneshot, involving Ron and Cedric post-Hogwarts, but the more I wrote in that, the more I got interested in the universe the story existed in. So, my friend (Oriminally) has this to look forward to!

This should, hopefully, encompass the entire time from Pre to Post Hogwarts, involving the War, the Friendships, possibilities of relationships, etc. In a variety of styles as well, so if I try something really weird, I apologize in advance! (Also, Cedric will be here in the next chapter, I swear)

If you have any questions, or nitpicky things, or wanna yell at me for the sheer stupidity of something, please do!

Happy Reading!


	2. Broomsticks and Proofs

Ron tugged at his throat. He hated it here.

It was the Ministry's Annual Holiday Ball, and every worker, as well as their family, was invited. It was a glamorous affair for some, and for others, a chance to gloat and boast over their achievements. But for the backbone of the Ministry of Magic, all the public servants who chose every day to put their work above self-promotion, it was a chance to dress up and eat a free, deliciously prepared meal. And mingle, of course.

And Ron was stuck in the middle of it all, wearing maroon dress robes several inches too short, and several degrees too warm. He could barely reach the serving trays, and his mum was too busy talking to some lady. He gazed up at her. She was pretty, he supposed, and tall as well. The woman noticed him staring and looked down.

"And who is this absolutely adorable child, Molly?" She cooed as she ruffled his hair. Ron relaxed at her touch. "I didn't know you had another girl! What's her name?" Wait. _What?_ Ron stiffened. Did she just call him a girl? He wasn't a girl, by Merlin, and he had the broomstick to prove it.

He made a move to pull it out from the front pocket of his pants, when Molly put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed, hard. He yelped, and the woman gave him a curious glance.

"Elaine, dearest, this is my son Ronald." She said this in a soft, loving voice, while squeezing Ron's shoulders even harder, effectively cutting off whatever he had to say.

Elaine's eyes widened ever so slightly, and Ron smiled. "Oh, my, I'm sorry, Molly. He is such a handsome young man. His hair is a bit long though…" She smiled softly at him.

Molly looked down at Ron, frowning. "My, I though Percy cut it. It gets so busy sometimes, seven children running around."

"Percy gives your children haircuts?"

Molly blushed. "Yes, well, it's an interest of his, and it's far less dangerous than Quidditch, so we allow him to cut Ron and Ginny's hair. Although, he must have forgotten to do Ronald's…"

Elaine smiled. "What an absolutely adorable hobby! How old is Percy, again? Nine?"

"Yes, nine, and acting like he's the oldest of the lot, bless my heart. Oh, did I tell you about what Ron managed?" Molly beamed at Ron, finally relaxing her grip, and started to tell her about a transfiguration he made. Ron, however, did not relax. There was only one thing he'd transfigured recently, that she would know about, at least. But his mum wouldn't, she couldn't possibly tell this woman that he made a doll. He'd look even MORE like a girl. And he wasn't a girl. All of his broomsticks were blue. Boy's colors! He looked towards his mum, an expression of abject horror on his face, mouth gaping, eyes wide, just before she concluded her tale. "And it was the most adorable thing! It was a doll, the exact image of Xenophilius's girl, Luna!" She ended with a wide smile.

Elaine's face held an amused expression. And a loud laugh came from behind her. The owner of the laugh stepped next to her. He was just a bit taller than Ron, broad shouldered, and a wide smile he had on his face, matching the one Elaine wore. "Ah, Molly, Ron, this is Cedric, my son. Cedric…" Elaine had a devilish look in her eye, and glanced at Molly. "Why don't you go play with Ronald?"

The two parents gently pushed them together and walked away, leaving Ron and Cedric in a corner of the giant room. There weren't that many people standing near the walls; most were towards the center, mingling with friends or dancing to the music of an orchestra. Cedric looked at Rona, with as serious as an expression a nine year old can have on his face.

"So," He began, knotting his fingers together. "What is this about you and a doll?"

Ron sputtered. "But, I, mean, I-I, bu-." Cedric cut Ron off.

"Look. I'm not gonna laugh at you, okay?" He said. Ron stared hard at him. "I'm not," he insisted. "I just wanna know, how'd you do it?"

Ron blinked. He'd expected to be laughed at more, or insulted, or anything other than get questioned. "Why do you want to know?" he finally responded, resting his hand in his arm.

Cedric took a breath. "Well, it sounded like it lasted for a long time an' it sounded like accidental magic and my accidental magic isn't that good an' I don't think my dad can make something last that long and my dad can do anything cause he's my dad and I wanna know how you did that so I can tell him and so he can make his last longer cause he's my dad and he's awesome." Cedric sped up through his speech, and his words meshed together towards the end.

He looked at Ron, who was staring open mouthed at him. "Well?" he asked.

Ron stared at him. 'How'd he speak so fast?' he wondered. "Erm, care to repeat that?" he responded sheepishly.

"No." Cedric answered.

The two boys stared at each other, from the opposite sides of the table they had decided to sit at. Neither blinked, neither moved a muscle. Each stared as hard as they could, even as tears started to form in the corners of their eyes.

"Are they alright?" A watching woman asked her husband.

"I bloody well hope so." He responded. "Care to dance?"

"Why yes!" She giggled, and they walked away.

Finally, Cedric blinked, at the same time Ron did. Both boys gaped at each other, until Cedric questioned Ron again. "So how'd you do it?"

Ron fixed a look on Cedric, the same look Bill gave him when he asked what was in the magazine he kept hiding under his bed. "I held a stick in my hand and wanted it to look like that." He shrugged. "And it did."

"Really? You just wanted it to look like that? That's all?" Cedric asked, astounded.

"Yeah. That's how I always do that. I just want it to be like that, and it happens. I make a lot of things like that." Ron leaned towards Cedric. After their staring contest, he felt, well, something inside him that made him think he could trust the other boy. "I've made broomsticks, and dolls, and lots of other things," he whispered, harshly.

"Really?" Cedric looked at Ron with unconcealed awe on his face. Even he couldn't do things like that, and he was older than Ron.

"Don't make that face. You look like, like a chicken or something," Ron stated matter-of-factly. Cedric fell into a glare. "I can show you, if you like." Ron reached into his pocket, intent on pulling out his blue and orange miniature broomstick (in _boy _colors, not like pink) but his fingers skimmed cloth.

"Oh _no…"_ he muttered. "I must've forgotten it at home. I can show you some other time, if you want." Ron asked, hopefully. He rarely had the chance to make friends with someone, rarer still when they were male.

"Sure! I'll visit you sometime. You have a fireplace, right?" Cedric asked, smiling.

"Of course! I live at The Burrow. That's in Ottery St. Catchpole." Ron smiled as well. The older boy's enthusiasm was infectious.

"Really? I live near Ottery St. Catchpole. That's awesome!" Cedric exclaimed. "I'm definitely gonna visit you then!"

The two boys sat at the table in silence, smiling at each other and listening to the music and far off chatter, catching snippets of conversation that they didn't really understand. Who really cared about the return of this nameless Lord, anyway? So many people were talking about.

Beads of sweat ran down Ron's face. He reached up to rub some off with the sleeve of his robe, but it was already soaked with sweat. "I hate robes…" he muttered softly.

Cedric cocked his head. "What did you say?" he asked.

"I hate robes," Ron said, louder this time. "They're stuffy and warm and they look like dresses and they make me look like a _girl._ I _hate _them." Cedric grinned.

"Glad I'm not the only one! Robes fit weird on me." He tugged at his sleeve for emphasis. "Never really liked them. I prefer Muggle clothes. My mum hates it, but my dad's fine with it. But when we come to these things, she always makes me wear robes. I hate them too!"

"My dad loves Muggles, and Muggle things. Nutty, mum calls it, but she's fine with it. I don't think she'll let me wear them though. She calls Muggle things _barmy._" Ron looked thoughtful. For a few minutes, the two sat, lost in their thoughts, thinking about robes and Muggle clothes.

Cedric snapped his fingers. "I've got it."

Ron looked at him oddly. "Got what?"

"How you can get your mom to let you wear Muggle clothes! See, if you make a doll, that looks like you, and then put Muggle clothes on them!" Cedric clapped his hands. "Simple!"

"Yeah, that could work, only, well…" Ron turned away.

"Well, what, Ron?" Cedric asked.

"I… I don't actually know what Muggle clothes look like. For boys, anyway. All the pictures I've seen had girls in them. Wearing dresses." Ron looked sheepish.

"Huh… Well then, I could come over, and show you some of the Muggle things I own!"

"Really?" Ron asked, hopefully.

"Of course, Ron, you're my friend!"

Ron smiled. He never really had a friend before. Then a pensive expression crossed his face. "But… If you come over, to show me what Muggle clothes look like…"

"Yeah?" Cedric pushed.

"Well, why don't you just show my mum _your _clothes?" Ron finished, still looking away. He wasn't sure if he just blew his new friendship.

Cedric contemplated Ron's words. "Ron that's…"

Ron flinched.

"That's brilliant!"

Ron gasped. "Re-Really?" he stammered.

"Of course! It makes loads more sense than my idea!" Cedric's stomach rumbled. "Now, I'm hungry. You wanna grab some food?"

Ron's stomach growled in response. "I'm starving! Let's go!"

The two abandoned their seats, and raced off into the crowd.

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer: I don't own, nor do I claim ownership of Harry Potter or any related… thingers.**

That applies for the last chapter as well. I forgot it last time.

Well, I hope you enjoyed that, because writing it was horrible. (Only because I wrote it when I was tired at going back and forth between several conversations.) Not much to say, the next story may or may not involve Muggle clothing. I'm actually not too sure. Also, in the continuity of this, the first chapter took place over the holiday break.

Anyway, have a wonderful day, and happy reading!


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